


i guess you're hanging on my heart

by echomoon



Series: The Post-Mosaic Fix-it Series [3]
Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Cuddling, Fluff, Life Partners, M/M, Mild Feminization, awkward seduction attempts, non explicit smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-24 23:37:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13821861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/echomoon/pseuds/echomoon
Summary: Quentin attempts to seduce Eliot according to Poppy's instructions; it doesn't work the way they planned, but at least they finally talk about the mosaic memories a bit.





	i guess you're hanging on my heart

**Author's Note:**

> whats up this was supposed to be a FUCKING DRABBLE and then 2000 words later i was like, well okay then. once again im incapable of writing smut so that part is not explicit BUT i feel like ive captured their relationship fairly well.  
> title from hurricane by hale appleman and active sun  
> dedicated to cldfiredrgn, this fic was literally because of ur comment on the poppy fic, everyone go read their fic because its amazing  
> and as always, catch me @echomoon or join us in the ftb discord

Eliot was walking up to his bedroom when he heard the voices.

 

“Poppy, are you sure about this?” Said a voice that sounded suspiciously like Quentin, minus the rough at the edges tone of tiredness that he had had ever since his solo quest.

 

“Yes, you’re going to do gre- shh, I think he’s coming.” A flash of red hair poked out of a doorway - Eliot’s doorway. Eliot just stared.

 

“Oh, uh, hey there, Eliot right? I was definitely not snooping in your room. Okay bye!” The girl said, coming out of the doorway fully. She flashed a thumbs up in the direction of the open door and bolted down the hallway.

 

Which meant that Quentin was probably in his room. Eliot smiled at the idea - it would be nice to have some proper alone time with Quentin, even if it was just to talk - they had been so busy since their memories came back that it was almost impossible to be alone. He takes a few wide strides, enters the room and closes the door behind him - and stops short at the sight in front of him.

 

It’s Quentin, sitting on his bed, wearing one of his silk robes. An unusual sight, one that Eliot would love to see more. But Quentin’s face is bright red, his eyes darting around the room, not quite looking at Eliot, and he’s fidgeting something awful.

 

“Did I… interrupt something?” Eliot asks carefully, not sure if Quentin and Poppy had been playing some sort of game - he had told Quentin to feel free to find someone else, and Quentin did always have a weak spot for pretty girls who were mean to him.

 

Quentin shakes his head. He awkwardly leans on one arm, pushing his chest forward a bit, and combs a hand through his hair, which is - partially in a braid? And is he wearing lip gloss?

 

“So what’s, um, up?” Quentin asks.

 

“I was just coming to grab some stuff…” Eliot replies, giving him a weird look.

 

Quentin lets out a small noise that may be a giggle, and somehow goes even redder. What is going on, another key side effect? Eliot approaches him, puts a hand on his forehead like he’s checking his temperature, not that it helps much when Quentin is already so flushed.

 

Quentin looks at him, wide eyed, and then sighs a bit. “Sit with me?”

 

“Of course. Tell Daddy what’s up.” Eliot says, slipping into old habits here at Brakebills. They never really did that particular kink thing in their many other years, but maybe they should’ve, because Quentin shivers in response. “Hm, okay, we’re going to talk about  _ that _ later. But seriously, what are you up to?”

 

Quentin leans forward, buries his face in Eliot’s chest. Eliot wraps his arms around him; Quentin repositions his face so its tilted upwards at him.

 

“Poppy was trying to teach me to seduce you.”

 

He can’t help it, he bursts into laughter, breaking their embrace. Quentin hides his face again, this time in his own hands.

 

“Q, babe, you realize you seduce me by just being you, right?” Eliot says, wrapping his arm around him again. “I mean, if you want to dress up like this I’m all for it, but you’re attractive because you’re  _ you _ , everything else is just bonus.”

 

Quentin picks up the edge of the robe, revealing his pale thigh and making Eliot realize that he’s either wearing very tiny underwear or none at all underneath. He tries to focus on Quentin’s emotions, and not sliding his hand under the robe to find out.

 

“It was mostly Poppy’s idea.” he mutters.

 

“I figured.” Eliot says, and then lifts Quentins face up so he’s looking him in the eyes. “You do look very pretty though. It would be a shame for all your effort to go to waste.”

 

Quentin, who’s face had been returning to normal color as they talked, starts to turn red again. “Is this doing it for you?”

 

“ _ You’re _ doing it for me, baby. But I won’t ever say no to you wanting to pretty yourself up for me.” Eliot finally puts a hand on Quentin’s thigh, brushing his thumb under the edge of the fabric. “Was this all Poppy’s idea, or was some of it yours, hmm? I’ve seen you staring at the girls when they did their makeup, have you wanted to do this all this time?”

 

“M-maybe.” Quentin says, his voice weak. He’s got one arm around Eliot’s lower back, the other in his lap, gripping the robe.

 

“Hmm.” Eliot moves his face closer to Quentin’s, nuzzles him, goes to speak right next to his ear - Quentin always liked that, Eliot murmuring in his ear. “Is that why you grew your hair out so long? You wanted to be pretty?”

 

“You know why I grew my hair out,” Quentin says, a stronger tone than anything else he’s said so far, and it’s true. He had grown his hair out for Eliot, who loved it long, and because honestly they both had a bit of a hair kink. “But also… a little bit.”

 

“Q,” Eliot says, pulling away a bit. “Why did you never share? You weren’t this shy about -“

 

“I don’t know. It wasn’t as much of a thing, I guess. Exploring kink wasn’t the most important thing?” Quentin breaks out of the embrace, lays back onto his arms. The robe rides up a little.

 

“Okay first of all, exploring kink is always the most important thing.” Eliot jokes, lays down on his side next to him. “And we might not have the most time right now, but… if you want to explore, we will make time to explore. We just might have to eradicate a race of evil talking mosquitos first.”

 

“This is all really confusing.” Quentin says.

 

“Which part?” Eliot asks, stroking Quentin’s face. Q smiles at him, and it takes his breath away.

 

“There’s just. So many other things to do besides figure us out, and you keep saying you want me to explore other people, and like, I just don’t? Know? Poppy kissed me, you know. I almost slept with her, but.”

 

“Do you want to sleep with her?”

 

“I… no? Maybe before all of this, but I think I’ve learned to not be self destructive like that by now. I don’t even like her.”

 

“Isn’t that your type in girls? Emotionally detached and busty?”

 

“Shut up.” Quentin laughs.

 

“But no, I understand. Q, just. Between Fen, and Idri, and not knowing that’s going to happen with the bonds we had taken once magic comes back, I just, want to make sure you have other options, especially if the magic makes it not work out with us. I mean honestly, though, Idri will probably be cool with you and me, and Fen likes you.”

 

“Right.” Quentin sighs. “Sometimes restoring magic feels like the wrong choice.”

 

“I know. But we have to do it.”

 

“Have you told anyone yet?”

 

“Not really. Me and Margo aren’t exactly the tightest right now, and - oh, fuck, Fen’s going to be staying here on earth for a while?”

 

“Why?”

 

“I may have been right about Fray not being our child. She’s… not taking it well.”

 

“And you are?”

 

“To be fair, I only started accepting her because of Rupert. It’s… not as bad as it could be. I did kind of call this.”

 

“Mm, I guess you did.” Quentin moves in closer, and they shuffle into an embrace.

 

“We should really talk more.” Eliot muses.

 

Quentin laughs. “Like we have time.”

 

“Let’s just run away to the Clock Barrens. We can kick Jane out and rebuild our cottage there.”

 

“I wish.”

 

They cuddle in silence for a bit after that, just taking comfort in each other in a quiet stolen moment. Quentin, ever the fidgeter, somehow ends up on top of Eliot, which is normal for them when the cuddle, and Eliot strokes down his back, their legs tangled up with each other.

 

“You know, I wasn’t expecting the seduction to work, but either way this is not where I saw this going.” Quentin says.

 

“Please, you are the clingiest, especially after sex. We would’ve ended up like this eventually.”

 

“Hm, I guess we’re doing this out of order then.”

 

“Are we now?” Eliot says, low tone.  His hands keep stroking, but they move lower and lower, resting on Quentin’s butt. “You looking for something in particular?”

 

“You know what I like.” Quentin shoots back, biting his lip.

 

“Seems to me like you’ve still got a lot to share.” Eliot replies, and then kisses Quentin. Their kiss lasts for a while, neither wanting to break for air until they have to, and they end up rolling over so Eliot is on top of Quentin.

 

“Let’s just do things the way we always did.” Quentin pants out when they break, wiggling his hips against Eliot.

 

“My my, Quentin Coldwater not up for adventure? What has the world come to.” Eliot teases.

 

“I’ll show you adventure.” Quentin all but growls, and very awkwardly peels the robe off of himself from under Eliot.

 

Eliot pulls back from him, taking in the sight of his lover’s body for the first time in what feels like forever, pausing on the lacy panties covering his lower half. He hesitantly reaches out, traces over the top edge.

 

“Shit, Q, you really went all out.”

 

“I would blame Poppy, but… this part was my idea.”

 

“You do have good ideas.” Eliot gives him another fierce kiss, then moves on from his mouth and starts trailing kisses down his chest instead. “Feel free… to surprise me… with shit like this… whenever you want.” 

 

And then he kisses Quentin through the underwear, mouths at his now hard cock. Quentin grabs the bed sheets, splays his legs out to give Eliot better access.

 

“Can I rip these or are they one of our girls’?” Eliot pauses.

 

“Uhh…” Quentin takes a minute to respond. “I mean, I don’t know? Poppy grabbed them as a joke, I don’t know where she got them.”

 

“Mm, I’ll play it safe then. Margo would kill me if I ruined something of hers.” He pulls the underwear off of him gently, giving him more kisses down his legs as he goes.

 

He divests himself of his clothing as well, which takes a minute with all the Fillorian layers, but turns it into a show for Q, who’s watching him with lust filled eyes, stroking his chest. He’s quite a sight, the lip gloss gone but his lips still shines from spit, his braid messed up and coming loose, his pale, skinny body awkwardly splayed against the dark red sheets. Eliot could stare at him all day, wants to burn the sight into his memories. He’s struck with a surge of emotions, overwhelmed that they have another life together, another chance to be together. He starts to tear up a little.

 

“El, come here.” Quentin says, and Eliot all but dives into his embrace. He nestles against Quentin’s chest. “I love you.”

 

“Love you too, Q.” He replies, taking a second to calm down. Quentin runs his hands through Eliot’s hair, which is getting fairly long as well. “Okay, I’m good.”

 

“You’re good?” Quentin asks, and then attacks him with kisses all over his face and chest. Eliot laughs, they laugh together, and their laughter turns into sweet kisses, then into rougher kisses as the lust overtakes them again.

 

They rut against each other, absorbed in kissing and touching, barely any words between them because they know each other’s bodies so well, and after they orgasm their kisses turn languid, they tangle up in each other, wanting to touch each other wherever they can. The sex turns back to cuddling, of sorts, but more of them just pressing their bodies together, as if they could meld into one, breathing each other in.

 

Eventually, they’ll have to get up and go back to the outside world; eventually, they’ll have to properly figure out what to do about their other lives, what to do about their future; eventually, they’ll have to seperate again, until their two worlds are safe and the keys are in their possession. But for now, they bury themselves in each other, trying to burn every second of this into their memory, taking solace in the embrace. 

 


End file.
